


Still Lingering

by tsukibeam



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn With Plot, Sex Pollen, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:51:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12646461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukibeam/pseuds/tsukibeam
Summary: After face planting in some fantastic smelling mushrooms, Prompto notices some things–mainly, everything about Noctis. Which is…not very convenient since he’s been nursing a crush for his best friend since forever…





	Still Lingering

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Marmolita (who beta'd this, thank yooouu) asking me 'have you ever written sex pollen' and well, I hadn't. In fact, I'd never written smut SO HERE WE ARE. 
> 
> Introducing: My first smut *confetti*. 
> 
> *runs and hides*

Prompto’s first thought, when he tripped over a random tree branch in the middle of their battle and landed face first in a pile of neon purple mushrooms, was _aw shit_.

His second was that the mushrooms smelled _really_ good. Like, that clean citrusy smell Ignis used for Noctis’s clothes back in Insomnia.

He’d always liked that smell, for more reasons than he really wanted to admit out loud, and it was one he missed since going on the road. And of course it was Ignis, so the brand was one of those artisan types that they would definitely not be able to find in a gas station, especially since the Crown City fell.

In short, Prompto inhaled a big whiff of it because...damn, he _missed_ it. It smelled like home, like good times, like _Noctis_.

“Prompto,” Ignis called out to him, cleaning his glasses while the smoke of fallen MTs fizzled out around him. “If you’re sufficiently rested, shall we move on?”

Prompto stumbled to his feet with flushed cheeks, joining in Gladio and Noctis’s laughter because really, of course he would face plant.

* * *

 

Two hours later and the citrus smell still lingered, somewhere, and it was distracting him enough that even Noctis noticed something was up.

“Hello, Eos to Prom,” Noctis waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay?”

Prompto shook his head and he blinked a few times. He was turned in his seat in the Regalia, almost a complete one-eighty, and Noctis leaned forward so they almost met in the middle.

Noctis was staring at him, a brow quirked upwards, like he was waiting for him to say something. Prompto realized, his cheeks flushing, that he was staring, straight at Noctis’s mouth. He shook his head again, and forced himself to look anywhere else.

What had he been talking about? He had his phone in his hand, King’s Knight opened and--of crap, his party died. _Again_.

Prompto laughed, the sound a touch sheepish, and he ignored Noctis’s own stare. “Sorry, buddy. Just tired, I guess.”

“Okay,” Noctis said, not really sounding convinced. “As long as nothing’s up...”

 _Was_ something up? Prompto didn’t think so. It was probably nothing; he was probably just tired like he said and, he didn’t know, going through an inconvenient bout of homesickness. Apparently he missed that stupid laundry detergent more than he thought.

So what if he trailed off in conversation because the midmorning sun hit Noctis just right, bringing out the glittering ice of his eyes. So what if the absolute beauty of Noctis sent a shot of heat through him, and straight through his heart and, well, _other_ places.

It was just the homesickness, for missing that smell, for missing being in Noctis’s apartment, just the two of them. It was all him, for still nursing that stupid school boy crush.

So no, nothing was up, despite the worried inquires the others gave him.

He was _fine_.

* * *

 

Four hours later, Prompto was _not_ fine.

Everything was hot, even the overly air conditioned diner they stopped at for lunch. And the smell _still_ lingered.

His eyes couldn’t seem to settle on any fixed location, choosing instead to dart from Noctis’s lips, hair, hands, arms--basically, all of his best friend. And he really meant _all_ \--Prompto lost track of how many times he found himself staring at Noctis’s ass, and when his eyes trailed down Noctis’s front, he realized he was in trouble.

This wasn’t just homesickness. This wasn’t just his schoolboy crush, a crush that had probably crossed the line from fleeting to _serious business love_ a long time ago. It had never been _this_ bad before though. Well, except maybe when he found out about the treaty engagement, when it felt like his heart took up residence in his stomach and a few (ugly) sobs racked through him at the news.

It wouldn’t matter anyway, engagement or not, that’s what he told himself. Because _of course_ Noctis would marry Lady Lunafreya. She was a princess, Noctis a prince--now king--and Prompto...well, Prompto was just the commoner best friend. Nothing special. Just...Prompto.

So he did his best to get over it all.

“Seriously,” Noctis said as he pushed the veggies from his burger off his plate and to Ignis’s. He wasn’t really paying attention though. He was studying Prompto, squinting at him, so half of the veggies ended up on the table. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine,” Prompto mumbled into his own burger. His eyes were completely and entirely focused on the dinner, _not_ on Noctis. He didn’t know what he said to make Noctis say that; he was doing his best not to say anything at all, lest he trail off _again_. “Just...hot.”

Ignis’s hand was cold ice when he reached over the table and placed it on Prompto’s forehead. Prompto flinched back, just an inch, but let Ignis make an assessment anyway. Maybe it’d get them off his back if he was deemed sick. Maybe he _was_ sick.

“You are rather warm,” Ignis agreed, pulling back with a frown on his face. He looked across the table at Gladio and Prompto couldn’t quite tell what their silent conversation was about but a moment later Ignis said, “Perhaps a night in a motel will help circumvent a bout of sickness.”

“That means quarantine for you,” Gladio said. “You’re not dragging us down with you.”

Prompto merely nodded, not sure what quarantine could mean, and went back to his burger. Ignis went about cleaning up Noctis’s mess on their end of the table and Noctis...Prompto could feel him staring at him, which just made him warmer, the weird heat flaring through him, making him shift a little as it settled right between his legs.

Yeah, he was in trouble.

* * *

 

Prompto learned, as soon as they reached the motel in Old Lestallum, that quarantine meant his own room, with the other three sharing a second.

He said nothing though, as he was handed his key, because he was unbearably hot, with his entire body tense with trying to hold back whatever was running through him. His focus was completely shot, but he very determinedly looked everywhere but Noctis because, _goddamn it_ , the citrus smell was still...somewhere, somehow stronger than ever.

Ignis must have mistaken his quiet for guilt because he said, “you need not worry about the cost, we have the funds. Just get some rest and we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Right,” Prompto mumbled and with his gaze pointed at the floor, he bade the others good night and hurried to his room.

Once there, he stripped down, threw himself into a cold shower and scrubbed everywhere he could. He wasn’t saying it was the mushroom that was making him feel so hot and whatever about Noctis but...they _were_ the source of the smell, probably, and maybe he shouldn’t have sniffed at them.

The shower didn’t help though, maybe because he was out of his clothes, in the open and that felt dangerously free. The shower felt good against his skin, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend the sliding water drops were fingers running down his arms and stomach, toward--Prompto wrenched his eyes open.

Pajamas. He needed his pajamas. He was out of the shower a second later, the towel barely around his waist before he charged out of the bathroom and--stopped, dead in his tracks, eyes going wide and meeting Noctis’s.

“Noct,” Prompto breathed, his body going tight again. His thighs clenched as he felt his blood rush straight to his dick.

“Uh.” Noctis did _not_ avert his eyes. “Your door was unlocked…”

Prompto pretty much had a good idea as to where these mushrooms were taking him but now, boner rising in his stupid towel while his stupid beautiful best friend stood in what was supposed to be his private room for the night, it was still sort of a shock.

The citrus smell was back and Prompto rushed past Noctis and to the bed--no, the couch. The couch would be better until Noctis left.

“Dude, I’m sort of naked here,” Prompto said, dropping to the couch, pulled a pillow over his lap and fiddling with the loose threads, hoping for nervously modest rather than what was _actually_ happening.

He absolutely could not look at Noctis, especially when Noctis scoffed and said, “please, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

That made Prompto wince, imaging _that_ , and then suddenly Noctis was there, in his line of vision, crouching down before him. And shit, he was beautiful, that worried brow, his perfect mouth parting as he formed a question that Prompto couldn’t hear because he was too focused on controlling his breathing now, the rapid beating of his heart.

“Hey,” Noctis prodded his shoulder. The contact felt like fire and it took everything Prompto had not to whimper. “Do we need to take you to a doctor or something?”

“No,” Prompto breathed out, and he squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head into his palms. “I’m fine. I just need you to go is all. Quarantine, remember?”

“Yeah…” Noctis said, and it was silent for a moment except for Prompto’s breathing and he thought that maybe he would _finally_ get his privacy for the night, for real this time.

“Okay, what did I do?” Prompto almost looked up at the rising impatience in Noctis’s voice but he just sunk his head lower because woah it was kinda hot. “You’ve barely spoken to me all day, you want me out, you won’t even _look_ at me.”

Prompto was _very aware_ as to why he couldn’t look at Noctis. It almost hurt, how hard his dick was, pressed against the stupid pillow and basically a whole three feet away from Noctis. Oh, gods, he was in trouble.

“You didn’t do anything, Noct,” Prompto managed between deep breaths. His voice was muffled by the pillow but obviously he was still heard because Noctis reached out and grabbed his wrists and pulled them away from his face.

 _Fuck_ was Prompto’s next thought as Noctis’s hand then hooked under Prompto’s chin and forced him to looked up.

Noctis was so close. Like, a foot from Prompto. He probably looked like a complete mess: dripping wet hair, cheeks that went beyond mere flushed...Not Noctis, though. It was unfair how good Noctis looked, always had been.

“You can’t just be sick though,” Noctis murmured as he took in Prompto, who almost stopped breathing because oh gods, Noctis reached out and brushed a hand against Prompto’s cheek.

“ _Noct_ ,” Prompto actually _did_ whimper, which made him flush deeper. His hips pushed off the couch a few inches, seeking the pressing friction of the pillow, lost now that Prompto’s arms weren’t holding it down. _Fuck_.

“It sucks,” Noctis said with a rueful sort laugh as his eyes searched along Prompto’s face, “being pushed away. You’ve never been like this.”

That was by sheer force of will and luck alone. How Prompto had gotten through high school with his hormones directed straight at Noctis, he’d never know. He was pretty proud of himself, when he thought about it, that he was able to keep things normal--to himself, and in his place.

It was spectacular how well he was going to fail at it all though. Noctis, his breath brushing across his face; Noctis’s hands around his wrists; Noctis’s _hurt_ stare piercing through Prompto; and the raging goddamn boner helplessly trapped under a pillow, _begging_ for attention.

It was the hurt in Noctis, Prompto maintained--not the stupid citrus smell, not his dick or the heat inside of him--no, it was the _friendship_ that made him blurt it out.

“Look, I fell into some mushrooms earlier.”

Noctis blinked, surprise and confusion over taking him and he tilted his head a bit. “What?”

“You smell really fucking good, dude,” Prompto continued, releasing a sheepish laugh. “Like. I’m all messed up because of it. Everything is sort of heightened.”

“Wait, what?”

Prompto winced now, shifting in his seat because now that it was--sort of--out in the open, the sheer hardness of it all was getting to the unbearable side of things. The movement made Noctis blink again, and Prompto watched as his eyes wandered around his face again, reconsidering everything.

“Oh,” Noctis said, his eyes going wide. And Six damn him, his eyes actually flickered downward at the pillow and Prompto winced and shifted again. “ _Oh_.”

“So yeah,” Prompto drew out the words. “Maybe you should leave now.”

Noctis stared at him for few beats. Prompto was pretty sure he had never heard such loud quiet in his life. And then--Noctis’s brow furrowed and Prompto knew he was in trouble again.

“When you say _heightened_ ,” Noctis finally said, his words careful, “does that mean you always feel this way?”

“Um,” Prompto began and stopped. His eyes widened and he pulled an arm out of Noctis’s grasp, clamping his hand over his mouth because the truth was so dangerously close to coming out.

Of course Noctis sensed it though, and his stupid perfect lips curved upwards into a smile that was far too pleased for the situation. Prompto wanted to smack the smile off him--or kiss it off, which ever would calm him down.

“Dude,” Noctis said, leaning forward a bit, coming even closer. Prompto’s breath hitched. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

And, fuck, Noctis’s hand tightened around his wrist and Prompto was pretty sure his ability to breathe was gone and lost forever. Especially since a different sort of light entered Noctis’s eyes, one that Prompto only dreamed about.

It was sort of amazing, that Noctis would look at him that way, that Prompto could fall under his radar despite his lowly and mysterious origins. It was soft and longing, and Prompto recognized it immediately, because he saw it in the mirror far too often when he thought about Noctis.

“You didn’t have to keep this a secret,” Noctis whispered, brushing his hand over Prompto’s cheek again only this time, it didn’t leave. Just stayed there, with Prompto’s skin on fire under it. “I would’ve...I wanted _you_. Fuck, it’s always been you.”

There was a line before them and Prompto was so close to crossing it, Noctis just on the other side, _waiting_ and--

“Aw fuck,” Prompto sighed before grabbing Noctis’s hand, thumb brushing over the top, and pulling him forward.

Their mouths met with a clumsy clash but--there, Noctis’s lips. Warm and so unfairly soft. Prompto groaned, he couldn’t help it, not when Noctis’s taste overrode everything else, not when he pulsed with need and the urge to touch more of Noctis.

Prompto reached out, fingers trailing from Noctis’s jaw, down his neck, feeling the warmth in Noctis’s skin. His hands roamed further, all the way down Noctis’s torso, reaching the hem of his shirt. His fingers played at it, the strip of skin beneath a taunt, before he slipped his hands under the fabric. He placed his hands flush against Noctis.

“ _Noct_ ,” Prompto sighed against Noctis’s lips, “I shouldn’t, those stupid mushrooms…”

“Shh,” Noctis nipped at his bottom lip and Prompto whimpered again. He felt the pillow being taken away, and then Noctis pushing him back lengthwise along the couch. “Let me help you.”

Prompto was helpless, his breath hitched and heavy, as Noctis reached out and traced a line down his stomach. The touch was white hot, and Prompto arched his back, seeking more. Noctis took his time though, leaning forward with not just hands, but lips as well. He sprinkled teasing kisses all along Prompto’s torso, nipping and licking, leaving Prompto gasping and arching beneath him.

Noctis’s lips left Prompto’s body, and Prompto _ached_ with the loss of contact. He reached out for Noctis, but he was already there, above Prompto, straddling his thighs, and staring down at him with darkened eyes.

Prompto arched properly against Noctis again, when he leaned down for another kiss, his cock trapped under Noctis. It was beautiful friction, with Noctis’s tongue working along his lips, seeking entrance that Prompto gladly gave him.

Prompto’s entire body tingled as Noctis reached between them, fingers grazing at the head of Prompto’s cock, still wrapped in that towel. Prompto broke away from Noctis’s lips with a gasp. Noctis eased off him, enough to pull the towel away so that Prompto was fully exposed.

Prompto heard Noctis’s breath hitch, saw the pink dusting his cheeks as he caught sight of Prompto’s hard cock, already beaded with precum and heavy against his stomach. He looked back up, his eyes wide and reverent.

“Fuck, Prom,” he said as he came down and claimed Prompto’s mouth again, a hand slipping between them, wrapping around the base of Prompto’s cock.

Prompto swore into Noctis’s mouth as he gave Prompto a couple strokes, long and slow, an experiment. The results must have been pleasing because Prompto felt Noctis smile against his lips and did it again.

Prompto needed to do something with his hands--he needed to _feel_ Noctis. He found Noctis’s shirt again and tugged at it, until Noctis pulled away, and took it off with his other hand. Noctis settled back against the couch, wedged into the back cushions and Prompto’s side.

It was amazing, Noctis’s skin and his hand working at Prompto’s achingly hard cock. But it wasn’t enough, he needed--more. Prompto reached out, fingers trailing roughly at Noctis, down and down until he reached the band of his pants. Noctis hissed, when Prompto’s hand descended, and found his own hard cock pressing against his clothing.

“ _Prom._ ” Noctis ground his hips against Prompto’s hand, his hand going rough as he jerked at Prompto.

Prompto felt a fire building inside him, flaring into all his senses as Noctis’s thumb brushed over the tip of cock, slick in his hand. Noctis’s lips found his neck and Prompto tipped his head back, letting him nip at the skin there.

It was almost too much, the feeling of Noctis in his hand, Noctis’s own hand around Prompto with firm and steady pressure. He could feel the wave bearing down on him, ready to overtake him, and Prompto didn’t want it to stop but--Noctis sprinkled kisses up Prompto’s neck, at his jaw, and then their lips met again.

Noctis’s thumb flicked over the tip of his cock, and Prompto gasped out a plea, and tensed as the wave of pleasure finally crashed over him, and he came messily into Noctis’s hand.

His hand tightened over Noctis’s cock as he rode out his orgasm, tense and trembling against Noctis, but Noctis didn’t stop, only gave his cock more firm jerks, lips covering every inch of Prompto he could find.

As Prompto came down from his orgasm, he realized through that fog how hard Noctis was in his hand. His body was languid but he pulled away and sat up, Noctis releasing his own whimper, and guided Noctis down into the spot he had just been in, until he was on top. Noctis’s hips rose, so that Prompto was able to pull off his pants.  

Prompto took Noctis in his hand again, giving his cock a few of the same firm strokes Noctis had given him. Noctis’s breath hitched, and Prompto leaned forward, his other hand stroking at the taut skin under him, trailing up and up until he found a nipple, peaked under his finger tip.

Noctis hissed again, and Prompto smirked, descending on the little nub of flesh, tongue flicking at it while his hand worked on his cock.

Prompto felt Noctis tense under him and then warmth spilled into his hand as Noctis came with a cry. Prompto worked him through it, shifting his attention over to his other nipple, _hearing_ Noctis’s thundering heart in his chest.

Prompto fell against Noctis, and it was so, so quiet aside from their heavy breathing and the steadying beat of Noctis’s heart. And Prompto realized, as his body calmed and the tension left him, that the citrus smell...was gone. The heat the plagued him throughout the day, cooled.

He felt Noctis’s arms circle around his waist, holding Prompto there, the mess they both made trapped between them, but Prompto didn’t care, not with Noctis smiling, lazy and affectionately, at him.

“Noctis,” he said gravely, as everything crashed down on him, “I should have done this forever ago.”

Noctis laughed, low and with the same wonder Prompto felt inside of him. He brought his hand up and cupped Prompto’s cheek, fingers brushing into his hair. Prompto leaned into the touch. “It’s okay.”

“Ignis is going to kill you for breaking quarantine,” Prompto said next, flicking his eyes wearily at the door.

Noctis snorted, his hand tightening around the base of Prompto’s neck, bringing him forward. When their lips met again and they both sighed, Prompto found that he couldn’t bring himself to care about _that_ , either.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, these are words that came out of my brain and shhh I know it's tame compared to...everything else written but I'm proud of myself. So. I hope you liked it XD PS, find me on Tumblr @tsukibeamfics


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